


Unforseen Occurrences

by sgcgategirl



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-21
Updated: 2003-08-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgcgategirl/pseuds/sgcgategirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unforseen Occurrences

"Janet, there's been an accident."

God, how she hated those words. She couldn't even begin to count the number of times she'd answered the phone to hear those same words in that somber and grim tone of voice. For Doctor Janet Fraiser, CMO of Stargate Command based in Cheyenne Mountain that could mean a number of things.

Of course, with those words, family always comes first to mind.

"Cassie? Is Cassie all right?" Janet asked, her heart in her throat.

"She's fine," General Hammond's calm tones assured her, but as soon as he continued, her spirits sank even further. "It's Colonel O'Neill."

"What happened?"

"It appears he was in an accident. One of the SFs was on his way home and saw two trucks on the side of the road. He immediately called for an ambulance. When he got closer, he recognized the Colonel's truck and called me immediately. That call came through a few minutes ago. I'd like you to go to the scene and see what you can do."

Thankfully, her medical training kicked in immediately, enabling her to push her feelings to the side—for the time being. It was bad enough that everything always happened to SG1, but Jack O'Neill always managed to attract trouble—on earth as well as off world. "I'll be ready in a few minutes. What should I expect?"

"I'm not sure, Doctor. But from what he said, it doesn't look good. The fire rescue units were already on their way." Hammond's voice was grim.

"Have you notified his team?"

"That's being done as we speak, although I'm not sure how quickly they will be able to respond," Hammond said, sighing deeply. "Doctor Jackson and Major Carter are currently off world with SG6 and Teal'c is home visiting his family on Chulak."

"I know, Sir. I'll be ready to leave in a few minutes."

"There will be an airman waiting for your topside. The accident scene isn't far away, about halfway down the mountain." Hammond paused long enough to make the pit of fear in Janet's stomach grow exponentially. "Take good care of him, Janet."

"Oh, I will, Sir. That I guarantee."

* * *

**Chapter 2: Chapter Two**

* * *

Colonel Jack O'Neill was thinking about pizza, beer, and hockey—in that order—when it happened.

He'd had a rather uneventful day at the SGC with just some paperwork and a few mission reports to complete. With the rest of the team attending to various projects and assignments for the duration of the week, it had made for a boring—if productive—day.

Every now and then his scientists got the opportunity to join another team and exercise the scientific portion of their brains a little more than they normally did. As the frontline field unit of the SGC, it was sometimes difficult for Carter and Daniel to actually do anything scientific when they were off world. So, when there came a time when he could send them on their merry scientific way, Jack tried to do so.

Even though he dreaded each and every passing minute, he did it anyway.

So when he'd finally finished his last file and poked his head into General Hammond's office to say goodnight, he was ready to relax. He had a slight headache and his eyes were hurting a little—squinting at the computer screen and the various bits of paper for hours on end could do that to the people with the best of eyesight—let alone a slightly worn Air Force Colonel.

He had a date tonight with his couch, a beer, pizza, and hockey. There was a game on tonight that he'd been dying to watch for the past few days and it was scheduled to begin at 2100 hours. He had just enough time to stop, get food, and get himself home in time to catch the opening minutes of the game.

Unfortunately, things didn't go quite the way that he had planned.

It had been raining when he left the mountain, a pleasantly steady drizzle, just enough to wet the roads and make them slick. With his big truck and four-wheel drive, he had no problem negotiating the damp mountain roads.

However, that was not the case for the other truck.

He had just turned up the radio—his favorite station was playing some great classic rock tunes from the 1970s—when the blaring lights of an oncoming vehicle blinded him.

He reacted immediately. His reflexes were perfect. He reacted quickly, wrenching the wheel hard to the right in order to avoid the oncoming car. Unfortunately, the road, the other vehicle, and his tires had other things in mind.

Jack could feel his tires slipping and he tried to recover, tried to make his truck go the way he needed it to go.

He knew that he was going off the road, into the ditch and the trees that lined the winding mountain pass. There was no doubt in Jack's mind. This was not going to be pretty and his insurance company was so not going to like this.

The vehicle he'd been trying to avoid, however, had also reacted but instead of turning away, it slid further into O'Neill's lane, managing to hit O'Neill's truck broadside, along the driver's side. The impact crushed the metal inward, shoving the truck off its original trajectory, and spinning both of the vehicles around before their momentum pushed them both into the ditch—and into contact with one of the largest trees Jack had ever seen.

Out of control, with his left arm already pinned in some of the twisted metal, the last thought Jack had before his truck slammed into the tree was about pizza, beer, and hockey.

He was so going to miss dinner and the game.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Chapter Three**

* * *

The flashing of the emergency vehicles gave the scene of the accident a nightmarish quality. Even before the Airforce sedan fully stopped up at the scene, Janet jumped out, pulling her emergency kit with her. Her senses were assaulted with the sounds and the smells of the accident. The misty rain mingled with the pungent smell of burnt rubber and the sooty smell of smoke. The symphony of the two trucks horns crooning in the dark sent shivers down her spine.

There was work to be done.

Flashing her military badge at the police officer at the edge of the scene, she quickly made her way to the vehicles, trying to find the medic in charge. Two ambulances were stationed on the side of the road, their rear doors side open, the stretchers already deployed closer to the accident itself.

Janet made her way closer noticing that the mood of the rescuers was not optimistic. Snagging the sleeve of a passing fire fighter, she managed to get his attention. "What's the status of the victims?"

He sighed, turning back to look at the two trucks, their metals twisted and intertwined together in a horrible sculpture of death and destruction. Janet's eyes had followed his glance, taking in the scene in all its obscene glory. The occasional flash of the crime scene photographer's flashbulb illuminated the night, small flashes of brilliance in the darkness. "Two DOA and one very close."

"Which one?" Janet asked, her heart in her throat, fear nearly overwhelming her. What would she tell Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c? What would she tell Cassie? "Who is alive?"

"Well, if you call it that," he said, and pointed to the truck that had been impaled by a tree, the truck's front end embracing the tree trunk in a death grip of metal. "He's in this vehicle here. We're trying to cut him out now, but we're not sure if it'll make any difference."

Relief nearly flooded over her when the man pointed to Colonel's O'Neill's truck—or what was left of it.

"That's all I needed to know," Janet said, patting the man's arm before moving on, her stride purposeful. As she got closer, the smell of smoke, burnt wiring, gas, antifreeze, and blood mingled together into a nearly overwhelming kaleidoscope of odors.

There were several men working around the Colonel's truck, their moves precise, their faces grim and determined. She approached the passenger side, the only place she'd be able to access Jack's prone form lying within. "I'm Doctor Fraiser, Colonel O'Neill's physician. What's his status?" she asked, her voice firm.

"It's hard to tell, ma'am," one young man replied, stepping back a little from the truck. "He hasn't regained consciousness since we arrived. It looks like he's pinned—his left arm and the lower part of his body. He had a cut on his temple that's bleeding, so we think that he may have hit his head as well. Unlike the other two victims, he was wearing his seatbelt and the airbags deployed, otherwise I'm sure he'd be dead right now. It's hard to maneuver in there, so we've only managed to apply a bandage to try and stem the bleeding as best we can. His airway is clear and there isn't anything very obvious. The only thing is that we're not sure how long he's been here."

"Let me see what I can do," Janet said, hefting her bag and eyeing the twisted remains of the truck. A hand on her arm held her back.  
"Ma'am, it's not really safe. There's a gas leak somewhere and we're working as quickly as we can to get him out. It would be better for you—"

"Better for me maybe," Janet said, cutting him off. "But not for the Colonel. Now, I'm getting in that truck with or without your help. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, nodding slightly, understanding bright in his eyes. "Since you're so small, you might be able to squeeze in through the passenger side window. The door seems to be jammed. Let me give you a hand."

"Thank you," Janet replied, her voice thick with appreciation and gratitude for not having to explain. Dropping her bag, the young man helped her climb into the truck's cab—a little awkward in her skirt—and lifted her bag in after her. "Can you shine a little more light in here?" She asked, looking around in the cramped compartment, trying to figure out the best way to sit. There was glass and metal and bits of wood and leaves everywhere. A branch had gone through the windshield—grazing O'Neill's right shoulder and leaving a bleeding gash—which had been bandaged—and extending into the rear set of seats. If it had been only a few inches toward the left, she would be calling General Hammond to organize a wake.

Jack was breathing—always a good sign. It sounded a little shallow, but that was okay for now.

"Sir?" Janet asked, scooting closer, trying to work around the tree limb, trying to touch his face. Even unconscious, Janet always believed that touch was important. Sometimes, that was all the comfort a patient could receive. "Jack? Can you hear me?"

Lightly touching the side of his face closest to her, Janet was surprised at how cool he was—especially because it wasn't a cold night. He was going into shock and Janet would be surprised if he wasn't bleeding out somewhere. She needed to see what was going on.

Leaving her hand on the side of Jack's face, she turned her head and yelled out the window of the truck once again, trying to be heard over the blaring horns and the metal cutting saws that were trying to free Jack's body from the wreckage. "I need more light in here. Can someone give me some light?"

"Hang on, Doctor," the same young man replied a moment later, leaning into the cab. "We're working on it. We're just trying to run a line back to the truck. Give us a minute."

"Just hurry," Janet said, turning back to her patient. Her hand slid down from Jack's cheek to rest lightly on this neck, her fingers poised above the artery, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but light and feathery.

As she was about ready to pull her fingers away, she felt him move his head a little, a soft groan coming from deep in this throat.

"Jack?" she asked, moving closer, trying to lean over the branch to look into his face. She didn't want him to move too much just in case he had a neck injury. "Jack, can you hear me? If you can, I need you to stay as still as you can. We're trying to get you out of here."

He moaned again, this time louder, and his lips moved slightly. He was coming around and he was trying to speak. Janet had to move closer to try and hear what he was saying. Nearly lying across the branch, she placed her ear next to his mouth, trying to catch his words.

"Jack," she said, her hand squeezing his shoulder a little as she balanced herself against the crushed and mangled console. "Jack, can you hear me? I need you to repeat what you just said."

Leaning close, his lips barely touching her ear, she strained to listen for his words.

"Hurts."

Her heart nearly broke at his declaration. "Yes, Jack, I know it hurts. We're working as quickly as we can. Do you know what happened?"

Janet thought that he might have dropped back into unconsciousness because several beats passed before he answered. "Accident. Truck...slammed...into me...then hit the tree."

He was coherent, but the answers were coming a little slower than she would have liked. "Yes, Jack. You were in an accident. We're trying to get you out. You have to hold on."

"Janet...it hurts."

"I know, Jack. I know." She leaned back and found herself looking directly into his dark brown orbs, filled with pain—and fear. "Where does it hurt the most?"

His eyes closed and he was silent for a minute before he opened his eyes again, locking his gaze with hers. "...Can't feel anything...from waist down...head hurts...arm hurts...both arms..."

No feeling from the waist down was not a good sign. She turned her head again, looking into the darkness beyond. "I need light in here!" she yelled again.

"Coming right up, Doctor," came the reply and, sure enough, a bright light clicked on, illuminating the front cab of Jack's truck and nearly blinding her in the process.

Things were better in the dark.

In the harsh light provided by the bare bulb, Jack was ghostly white against the dark fabric of the seat. His left arm was pinned against him and what had been the driver's side door. There was no blood but if Janet had to guess, the arm, and possibly the ribs on his left side, was broken.

Broken ribs and arms would mend easily enough.

Aiming her glance downward, Janet realized just how extensively Jack was pinned. The engine compartment had moved backward several feet and most of the driver's side console was sitting in Jack's lap, pressing him into the seat and possibly cutting off the circulation to his extremities.

She bent down, trying to see around the branch. Reaching down with her free hand and bracing herself against the front console, she felt her way as best she could, looking for any obvious signs of broken bones and trying to feel for a pulse along his legs. She found one, very faint, but it was there.

"Doc..." Jack whispered and Janet pulled her head up to see what he wanted.

"What is it, Jack?"

"...Getting a little...personal...aren't you?"

If things weren't so serious, she would have laughed. "No more than usual, Jack." Even in pain, Jack O'Neill's main concern was always everyone else. His eyes were partially closed against the bright light, but a gleam of humor was clearly evident.

"...Just checking...everything still there, Doc?"

"As far as I can tell, Jack. There might be some broken bones, but I won't know that for sure until we move you. Right now it looks like you're going to sit still for a little while."

"I can do that."

Janet leaned back, resting her hand against the side of his face. "I'd rather not give you anything for the pain until I can check you out fully. Are you okay or do you need something?"

"Fine, Doc. Just peachy."

"Okay," she said, looking out of the truck when something caught her attention. "I'll be right back, Jack."

"...'kay."

Scooting closer to the window, she waved the same young man to her side. "How are we doing with getting him out of here? It looks like he's pinned from the waist down and I'm not sure what kind of damage may have been done. I really need to get him to a medical facility soon."

"I know, Doctor," he said, glancing to the two figures on the other side of the vehicle, his eyes narrowing as he tried to estimate their progress. "It's tough going, but I think we should have him out in a few minutes."

"Okay," Janet sighed. "Do you have a neck brace available?"

"Yes, I do."

"Can you grab it? I'd like to start prepping him to be transferred. We're going to have to move quickly once he's out. I'm a little worried since he claims he can't feel his legs."

"Sure, hang on," he said, stepping away toward the stretchers sitting several feet from the vehicles. He returned a few beats later, a plastic collar in hand. "Here you go. Do you want to try and see if you can lay the seat back any? It might give you a little more room. It'll make it easier to get him out later."

Looking back at O'Neill, she made up her mind quickly. "Actually, that would be great if we can do it. I'm not sure if the seat will move or not."

"Let me see if I can get in the back seat so I can help you," he said, trying to wrench the rear door open. It took several tries, but eventually it gave with a grating of metal against metal. He climbed in quickly and offered a low whistle when he saw how far the tree branch extended. "This could have been a lot worse."

Janet didn't answer, but nodded her agreement as she carefully placed the collar on Jack's neck, immobilizing it. His eyes were still open, staring straight ahead, but were a little out of focus. They really need to hurry.

"Well, okay then," he said, rubbing his hands together and taking a good look at the chair and the offending branch. "As long as the seat doesn't get hung up on the side wall we should be okay. What do you think?"

"Well," Janet said, reaching over to feel along Jack's left arm. "I don't think his arm is tied to the truck, so yes, we should be okay."

"Okay," he said, moving around in the back seat. "I think I can reach the seat controls from here. How do you want to do this?"

"Let's lean him back a little at a time," Janet said, looking at Jack critically. He didn't look good and she didn't like his color.

"All right," the medic said, his voice muffled against the back of the driver's seat. "Here we go. Tell me when to stop."

"Okay," Janet said, nodding and placing a hand against Jack's cheek. She leaned in closer to him to make sure he understood what was going on. "Jack, we're going to lean you back a little to prep you to get you out of here. Tell me if anything changes, okay?"

Jack blinked once. "...'kay."

Janet looked up, eyeing the medic as he lowered the seat back millimeter by millimeter. So far so good, she thought. Jack's left arm was slowly becoming free and Janet leaned further over the branch to help guide the limb free.

"Aghhhhh!" Jack cried.

"What Jack?" Janet asked, her eyes wide. The medic had also stopped moving the seat back. They'd gotten it down a few inches, allowing Jack to recline a little.

"...Arm...oh God...that hurts."

"Jack, stay still for a minute. I'm going to try to put a temporary splint on it to keep it from moving again. Okay?"

Jack blinked once, his teeth fastened securely on his bottom lip.

"Can you—" Janet started to say, but was cut off.

"I'm on it," the medic said already halfway out of the truck. "I'm going to grab some saline as well. He's going to need it."

Janet nodded quickly, her eyes fixed intently on the man before her whose brown eyes were starting to tear.

"Hold on, Jack," Janet said, her voice nearly breaking. This was the worst part of the job—being helpless while someone was in pain. "We're working as fast as we can."

"...I know, Janet...I know...you wouldn't think...that this would...hurt so much..."Jack closed his eyes. Janet's hand immediately slid to his neck, checking for a pulse. After a frantic few seconds she found it. He'd worried her for a minute.

"Here," the medic said, hopping carefully back into the rear of the cab and handing Janet an arm splint.

"Okay, Jack, this is going to hurt. Are you ready?" Janet asked, trying to position herself so she'd be able to splint the arm in place quickly.

"Ready."

She almost didn't hear Jack's whispered reply. Five minutes later the arm was splinted amid a round of Jack's more creative curses. He'd gone limp halfway through, his eyes rolling back in his head. After a quick check of his pulse, she finished the splint and then inserted the IV line into the back of his right hand, hooking the saline bag to the hook on the grip handle above the rear window. She also pulled an ampoule of morphine from her bag and quickly inserted a dosage into the IV stream. She wasn't sure if it was the best thing to do, but she couldn't sit here with him in agony. At least it would help Jack manage the pain somewhat.

"Okay, let's put the seat down the rest of the way. We're probably going to have to take him out through the tailgate," Janet said, wiping the sweat off of her brow as she settled back down in the debris-covered seat.

"Maybe," the medic said. He narrowed his eyes a little as he gazed out of the shattered front window. "We're probably going to have to move out of here soon, Doctor. They're about ready to lift the roof off."

Janet followed his gaze as the two men moved around to the front of the truck, one on each side. She'd been able to ignore what they'd been doing, her attention focused intently on Jack, not realizing what they were planning.

"Why are they taking the roof off?"

"I think they're going to try and slid him out from under the console once they get something to lever it up," he said, his eyes still fixed on the figured outside. "Okay, they're ready. We've got to get out of here."

"But—"

"Doctor, now. You're just making this take longer if you argue."

Janet sighed and placed a hand on Jack's cheek. "I'll be right back, Jack. We're going to get you out."

The medic helped her climb out of the truck and they stepped back several paces as the saws once more got back to work, cutting through the metal with ease.

"I'm Keith, by the way," the medic said, offering a hand.

"Janet Fraiser," she answered automatically as she grasped his hand warmly. Her attention, though, was focused on the truck before her.

"You care a lot about him, don't you?" Keith said, his voice quiet, barely reaching her across the distance.

Janet glanced over at him quickly, trying to gauge his reason for asking. "We're friends...good friends."

"I can tell," Keith said with a smile. "It shows in the way you are with him. I wish more doctors were like you, taking such an interest in their patients."

"Unfortunately, in the Colonel's line of work, he ends up visiting my infirmary more than he should," Janet said, turning back to the scene before her. They had called a number of other volunteers together because they were about ready to raise the roof.

"Once they get the roof off it should go quickly," Keith said, answering Janet's next question.

"I know," Janet said. "It's just the waiting..."

Keith smiled. "I know. Waiting sucks."

* * *

**Chapter 4: Chapter Four**

* * *

Jack's world was a mass of pain—all encompassing pain.

It radiated down from his neck into his left arm and into his chest. What worried him the most, though, was that he didn't feel anything below his waist.

It was strange, almost surreal, really. A portion of his mind realized that Janet must have given him some of her happy juice because it wasn't as bad as it had been before. But, he also could have sworn he was getting wet.

Opening his eyes, he looked up into the cloudy night sky. Blinking as small drops of rain hit his face and his eyes, he vaguely wondered what happened to the roof of his truck. Normally, when it rained and he was in his truck, he didn't get wet. This time, though, was different.

"Jack?"

That sounded like Doc Fraiser.

He blinked again, trying to turn his head to the sound oh her voice. "Jack, no," she said as her hand lightly touched his cheek and her face came into view. "Don't try and move, Jack. We're going to get you out of here. Just lie still and let us work, okay?"

"Sure, Janet," he said, his voice strangely quiet and breathy. That was not the sound he normally made, was it?

How many minutes passed, he didn't know, when Janet's face returned to hover in his line of sight. "Colonel...Jack, we're about ready to lift the console off of your legs and we're going to roll you right onto a backboard, okay? How are you doing?"

"Peachy. Just peachy."

"Okay," Janet said, turning away to look at something beyond his view, before glancing back. "This might hurt, Jack."

"'kay."

A horrific screeching and then there were hands all over him, sliding a board beneath him and securing him down. Been here, done this before. A few seconds later and he felt as if he was floating on air as the trees and clouds moved quickly away to be replaced by other tree branches.

He was moving and he thought he heard Janet's voice. "I'm going to need a normal saline IV with 50 mEq/L of sodium bicarb set up immediately. We'll be there in a few minutes." Janet's short hair was soaked through to her scalp when she finally appeared once again a few seconds later. "Jack, we're going to take you to the infirmary. How are you doing? Any pain in your legs?"

"Nothing, Doc," Jack answered after a brief thought. "Should I..." he started, his voice trailing off.

"It's okay, Jack," Janet said, vanishing from his sight as the ceiling of the ambulance came into view. She appeared a few seconds later at his side.

A few minutes or seconds had passed—Jack wasn't sure which—when he spoke again. "Doc, I'm not feeling so good."

"Jack, what's wrong?" Janet's voice sounded worried.

"Kind of nauseous," Jack said, trying to push the feeling to the back of his mind. Blackness, though, was closing in.

"Jack? Jack, can you hear me?" Janet's voice got fainter and fainter as if she was speaking from farther and farther away until finally he didn't hear it anymore.

* * *

**Chapter 5: Chapter Five**

* * *

**Epilogue**

Janet hated crush injuries.

If it wasn't one thing, it was another. They'd managed to stabilize the Colonel shortly after he passed out in the ambulance. With a course of continued aggressive fluid resuscitation and constant monitoring, Jack managed to avoid acute renal failure.

But of course, the accident had done quite a bit of damage.

Even though the console had all but landed in his lap, there wasn't any damage to his pelvis. They managed to discover in the ambulance that he had been bleeding out slightly on his right leg where a piece of metal had cut it open. Both of Jack's legs were broken, as was his left arm. The ribs were bruised, not broken, for which Janet was grateful.

Jack also had a minor concussion from striking his head on the steering wheel. Apparently, when the truck broadsided the Colonel's truck the airbag had deployed as it was designed, but it had deflated by the time the truck had struck the tree.

Janet had chosen to keep him sedated over the past week to make sure he started healing properly.

SG1 had returned as quickly as possible, but it had taken two days for Sam and Daniel to return because the site was a day's hike from the gate and for some reason the radio signals were not working correctly. Even though Jack was unconscious, his team stayed at his side, offering what comfort they could.

Janet paused by the door to the private room, glancing in, fully expecting someone to be sitting by Jack's bedside. She was surprised to find him alone.

Sighing, she crossed her hands over her chest and let her emotions finally come to the surface as she slumped against the doorframe.  
They'd almost lost him again—this time because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The two kids in the other truck had been drunk and decided it would be fun to race down the mountain—but they never even made it up halfway before they encountered the Colonel's truck.

She let her gaze linger on his still frame. Both legs were elevated slightly and encased in thick plaster casts. Cassie had already starting drawing on them with various markers. The Colonel would not be a happy camper when we woke up and saw the pictures, but he wouldn't complain—especially when he found out who had done the majority of the work. Granted, Sam and Daniel had also added their own pictures and comments, but this had been Cassie's project, her gift to her favorite uncle.

The casts would come off soon enough and then he'd have to go through physical therapy to regain the strength in his legs and learn how to walk again. There was a hard road still ahead of him, but she knew he was a fighter. He always had been and would always continue to be.

She stepped closer, her hand lightly resting on his arm as she watched the rise and fall of his chest.

"Doc?"

Janet nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard that quiet word.

"Colonel? Jack?"

"Hey, Doc," Jack said, smiling weakly, his brown eyes a little glassy, but firmly fixed on her face.

"Well, welcome back sleeping beauty. How are you doing?" Janet asked, her hand automatically sliding down to his wrist to check his pulse.

He thought for a minute before answering. "Okay. Nothing hurts too badly."

"I should hope not," Janet said, smiling tiredly. "I wouldn't be doing my job if you were hurting. Do you remember what happened?"

"Yeah...the accident. My truck felt a need to hug a tree and I was pinned. Oh, God, my insurance company is not going to be happy about this claim," Jack said, closing his eyes as he shook his head slightly from side to side.

"You can worry about that later. Right now, I need you to rest and heal," Janet said, placing the call button beneath his right hand and patting his hand lightly before stepping away. "Now, get some rest. I'll make sure you're not disturbed."

"Janet?" His quiet call stopped her in her tracks, turning her around immediately. He was looking at her intently, a serious expression on his face. He continued as soon as she caught his gaze. "Thank you for coming and for staying with me during this whole thing. It really means a lot to me."

"Don't mention it, Colonel," Janet said, quickly waving off his thanks.

His words were as strong as he could manage, but were barely louder than a whisper. "Janet, I really mean it. If you weren't there, I'm not sure what might have happened to me." Jack's eyes were quickly closing, but he was fighting it every step of the way. "Thank you for being there."

Janet stepped close, her hand clasping Jack's in a warm embrace. "Go to sleep, Jack. You're team will be here in the morning."

Janet stayed with him as his eyes slowly closed and he settled into a deep healing sleep. He'd be stronger in the morning and he'd enjoy the company of his team and sooner or later he'd start torturing her nurses.

Unforeseen occurrences befell one and all, of this Janet was certain. She just wished it didn't always have to happen to a certain Air Force Colonel.

Pushing his hair back from his forehead with a light touch, Janet lowered the lights next to the bed and quietly walked from the room. She paused at the door and turned around to glance one last time at the slumbering figure.

Her parting words, were barely audible, but had to be said.

"Good night, Jack. Sleep tight and pleasant dreams."


End file.
